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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719324">Richie Tozier's Live-in Slut</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairychangeling/pseuds/fairychangeling'>fairychangeling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Happy, Big Gay Love Story, Coming Out, Eddie Kaspbrak Gets Divorced, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Moving In Together, Not Myra Kaspbrak Friendly, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, lockdown - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:02:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairychangeling/pseuds/fairychangeling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie comes out on twitter.</p><p>Two days later Eddie shows up, carrying two large suitcases, announcing that he’s left Myra and he lives with Richie now. </p><p>A week later, the state goes into lockdown.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>444</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Richie Tozier's Live-in Slut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is incredibly self-indulgent because we're in the middle of a pandemic and I wanted to write about two idiots in love. </p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Richie comes out on twitter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two days later Eddie shows up, carrying two large suitcases, announcing that he’s left Myra and he lives with Richie now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A week later, the state goes into lockdown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s still so new, this thing between them, that they don't tell their friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The official story is that Eddie is staying with Richie to get some distance from his wife and start the divorce proceedings. Richie is just being accommodating and has a spare room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They don’t want to tell anyone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re two closeted forty-year olds trying to struggle their way through their first real gay relationship; it feels so fragile sometimes that Richie is scared breathing too loudly will send Eddie scuttling back to New York. Telling people seems terrifying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So lockdown is a blessing in some ways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re either going to come out of it totally committed, ready to be Mr &amp; Mr Tozier-Kaspbrak, or they’re both going to need to be committed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Living with Eddie is something else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s taken to greeting Richie at the front door, wearing rubber gloves and carrying a packet of wet-wipes, ready to disinfect every one of the groceries Richie has fought his way through the store to find. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They could have had groceries delivered, but sometimes Richie just needs to get out. It’s stifling, staying in the apartment, only his own thoughts and Eddie to keep him company. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie makes Richie take his clothes off and get straight in the shower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, after he’s finished disinfecting the groceries and putting Richie’s clothes on for a hot-wash, he peels off his gloves and joins Richie there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s worth it to have Eddie’s fingers trailing over his chest, soaping him up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Eddie stress cleans the kitchen at 3am, scrubbing an already clean floor, sobbing about how he’s left everything behind, Richie has dark thoughts about suggesting Eddie get his own place after lockdown ends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie is too used to his own space. Eddie is too particular. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If they want this to work, they need to live apart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>People do that. They make it work. They understand that being up in each other’s space 24/7 is unhealthy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie could come and visit, maybe stay over for sexy sleepovers. Eddie could come visit him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’ll suggest it to Eddie when they’ve both had a good night's sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Eddie looks up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears, hating himself, and all Richie wants to do is hold him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes Eddie back to bed, wrapping him up in the blankets and his arms, clinging onto him like the precious little package he is, and all thoughts of Eddie leaving disappear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is where Eddie needs to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two weeks in, Eddie stops stress cleaning at 3am.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, they fuck like bunnies on every surface available to them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a huge improvement as far as Richie is concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The world doesn’t stop just because of a pandemic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shops might be shut, people might be stuck inside their apartments going slowly crazy, but Richie is still a celebrity and people - for reasons as yet undetermined - want to hear from him during these strange times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s had to cancel his up-coming tour. There's no point in risking his or other people’s lives for stand-up comedy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does a couple of skype interviews with other comedians, hopping onto late-night shows to talk about his spiraling descent into sweatpants and madness. His once neglected youtube channel gets a whole new lease of life, filled with vlogs of his zombie movie style dashes through the grocery store or his attempts and failures at following workout routines he finds online. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has so much time on his hands and only so much of it can be filled with kissing Eddie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t include Eddie in any of his vlogs or mention him on twitter. It’s still too new. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie doesn’t want Myra to know. He’s muttered something about pre-nups and cheating when Richie has asked him about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie, who’s never had a relationship that got past the bedroom, leaves him to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re settling into a groove now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie works out the intricacies of his divorce and Richie does dumb TikTok dances for the enjoyment of his fans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It all goes side-ways at fucking 8.30am. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie’s up early, trying to look bright-eyed and bushy tailed, doing some morning show where they want to go on and on about how he’s had to cancel his tour and aren’t his fans upset and doesn’t he miss having a live audience? He does, but he’s not about to play into what the hosts are trying to get him to say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They want him to spout off about lockdown being bullshit or something, so they can run with it, gleefully rubbing their grubby hands over the controversy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he might have done, before Eddie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would have been attention and Richie thrived on that, good or bad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could have laughed the whole thing off later as a stupid joke that everyone was too uptight to get. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now he just shakes his head, murmuring softly about missing his fans but wanting them to stay safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which is when Eddie happens.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He comes out of the bedroom, hair ruffled, wearing one of Richie’s dumb shirts and only that, shuffling his way to the kitchen and the only thing he cares about in the morning - coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie freezes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie is used to him sitting at the counter, typing feverishly away at a new idea he’s had or replying to emails, or just scrolling endlessly through twitter. The sight of Richie on his laptop is just part of the environment as far as Eddie is concerned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Behind him, Eddie opens one of the cabinets, stretching up to reach for the cups and the entire morning show audience is greeted to the sight of his ass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want some, Richie?” he asks, voice husky from sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, sure. Eds, I…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know I don’t like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you have a gatecrasher,” comes a tinny voice in Richie’s ear, the morning show hosts grinning in delight because this is clearly better than getting Richie to say something stupid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, my maid,” he says, because his brain isn’t working and he can see his own reflection in the monitor, his deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Behind him Eddie snorts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maid? Don’t call me that either!” he says, pottering about, still blissfully unaware.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What should I call you then?” Richie hisses, wishing for sudden technical difficulties.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hosts are grinning like sharks. They’re eating this up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie hums. He sounds so happy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about live-in slut?” he suggests.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie’s soul leaves his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, I’m in the middle of an interview,” he says, every word strained. “We’re live.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie turns, his facing going white and his eyes going wide. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he surges forward and slams the lid of Richie’s laptop down, cutting off the interview.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie Tozier’s live-in slut</span>
  </em>
  <span> is trending on twitter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie hyperventilates into a paper bag and Richie knows this is going to be the end of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone keeps buzzing. Texts from his manager. Texts from his mum. Texts from the losers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all want to know if this means what they think it means.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie doesn’t have the heart to tell them this means they’re over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bev texts a beautiful sketch of a simple black t-shirt with a hot pink circle on it and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Richie Tozier’s Live-in Slut</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the circle, also in hot pink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is Eddie a small or an extra small? I’ll get one made up for him. Xx</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie shows it to him, rubbing the small of Eddie’s back, thinking it might make him laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie frowns, staring at the screen and Richie’s heart sinks because Eddie isn’t laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could sell these,” he says after a long, awful silence. “On your merch store. You could sell them. Ask Bev if she’d make hoddies too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like Bev is going to want to collab with my merch store,” Richie says, too taken aback to say anything else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bev is a big time designer and Richie is Richie. She isn’t going to want to cheapen her brand with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wraps his arms around Eddie, plastering himself against his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does this mean you’re staying?” he asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was never leaving,” Eddie answers, looking over his shoulder at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles and it’s still the most beautiful thing Richie has ever seen.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Eddie is brave, he always has been. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bev, horrifyingly, wants to collab.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They make t-shirts, hoddies and face masks. They all sell out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bill posts a selfie of himself wearing one. So does Ben. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike is locked down mid-way through his fabulous travelling adventure, living out of a hotel, but asks for one to be kept on hold for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie wears his “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Richie Tozier’s Live-in Slut</span>
  </em>
  <span>” hoodie proudly as he bounces on Richie’s cock in the privacy of their bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie feels like he won the lottery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie wakes up to his phone buzzing. His notifications are going crazy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He checks and finds himself linked in a story some trashy tabloid is running. That’s nothing new, he’s been dragged to hell and back by the tabloids for his whole career, but this story is different. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tozier’s live-in slut is <span class="u">my</span> husband!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s an interview with Eddie’s soon-to-be-ex-wife, Myra. There are photos of them together, Eddie and Myra, and Eddie looks thoroughly constipated in each one Richie is pleased to note. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reads the article furtively, worried that Eddie is going to wake up and demand to see it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Myra doesn’t pull any punches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She and Eddie were happy, she says. Eddie was straight, she says. They’d talked about having children, she says. Richie, she says, is a homewrecker who seduced Eddie, playing up the predatory angle all she can. She doesn’t say it outright, but the dog-whistles are there, loud and clear, for anyone who can hear them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie grew up in fucking Derry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s too early to start drinking. He calls his manager instead and has a rant, storming around the apartment, asking if they can sue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie does wake up eventually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie shoves his phone in his face, forgetting his previous desire of keeping this from Eddie, wanting to share his outrage with the man he loves most in the world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie reads the whole thing, brows drawn up, frowning thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should go public,” he says as he sets Richie’s phone down. “Get our side of things out. You’ve done nothing wrong and everyone needs to know that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He covers Richie’s hand with his own, smiling at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know that, don’t you?” he says. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A weight lifts from Richie, one he hadn’t known was there. He feels like he’s been carrying it about for years, ever since the first time Sonia Kaspbrak looked at him with her too knowing eyes and called him dirty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok,” he says, grinning. “I’ll call my manager and see what he can arrange.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They decide in the end to stream live on instagram because Eddie is too impatient to jump through all the hoops an interview would take. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie bounces now, tapping his foot, hardly holding it together while Eddie looks so sweet, his hair neatly brushed and his face washed. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt, buttoned all the way to the top, and a sweater even though it’s too warm. He’s just the perfect image of a good boy and Richie wants to ruin him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He presses record on his phone instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Eddie Kaspbrak,” Eddie says nervously. “And I’d like to take a moment to address some of the rumors going around about myself and Richie Tozier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Here Richie turns the camera on himself, waving and smiling, before swiveling back to Eddie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re dating,” Eddie says. “And yes, I have left my wife, but Richie didn’t steal me. I made my own choice. I would have left her with or without Richie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swallows, tugging at the hem of his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gay,” he says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As far as Richie knows, that’s the first time Eddie’s ever said it out loud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks surprised, his mouth a little ‘o’, and then he repeats the words to himself quietly, a small smile creeping over his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie makes an encouraging noise, gesturing for him to continue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Eddie says, catching himself. “The point is - and I want to stress this - Richie and I did not get together until after I left my wife. I did not cheat on Myra. We were separated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks proud of himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie cuts off the stream and gives him a thumbs up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dick so bomb, you leave your wife</span>
  </em>
  <span> trends on twitter an hour later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bev offers to make some merch for that too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie gets the first hoddie they make and he never wants to take it off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddie rolls his eyes at him before going up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It suits you,” he says and Richie beams at him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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